in the crowd • luke hemmings

2. put on your dancing shoes

lola stretched her right leg out, sighing with relief as she felt some of the tension ease.

between teaching the beginners classes and practicing for the company's next showcase, she could barely remember the last time there was a day she wasn't in the studio. in fact, the boxing match last night was the first time she'd gone out to something that wasn't to do with dance in two months.

and yes, it was scary and sweaty and kind of hard to look at, but there was a tiny, slightly guilty part of her that found it exciting. not the fighting per say, but muscly men with messy hair and unbelievable arms? it was then she realised just how long it had been since she'd last been with a guy.

and yeah there were alternative methods, but she was so tired at the end of every day that she barely had the effort to even want to try.

lola sat up a bit straighter and pouted at her reflection in the mirror. a couple of strands of hair had fallen out of her bun, and she was shining with sweat. the white walls were painfully unforgiving on how pale she'd suddenly become - lola hadn't realised how quickly her summer tan had faded.

she stared until she was convinced her yellow undertones made her look sickly and sighed. since the breakup, she'd developed an unhealthy habit of hating herself purely for the sake of hating herself. lola had never been the most confident girl in the world, but now she was just convinced she was the ugliest human to ever slither into the world.

lola and her ex, nate, had broken up exactly five months ago - she hadn't meant to count the days. their relationship was her first real one, and when they split she felt like she'd lost half of herself. he'd been friends with her friends, he'd keep her company at practices and was a permanent fixture in the crowds at her shows.

her first performance after the breakup was possibly the loneliest she'd ever felt. no nate cheering her on, right in the front and center so he could see every move she made. no flowers waiting for her backstage, no open arms and soft kisses waiting in the lobby. nothing.

towards the end of their relationship, she'd noticed a slight shift in his behavior. he didn't ever want to cuddle her anymore, he kept cancelling. he'd get snappier and shorter with her, he'd only ever give her attention when they were having sex, and whenever lola tried to talk to him about it, all he would do was shout.

eventually, she scraped up the courage to ask him if he loved her. she remember how much her voice was shaking, and her cheeks were already wet with tears because she knew exactly what he was going to say.

no.

he shook his head and her entire world crumbled because how could the person she adored more than anyone not love her anymore?

she remembered him closing the door behind him. the lock clicked and she crumbled to the floor.

lola blinked herself back to reality, realising how blurred her vision had become.

she wiped her eyes quickly, and stood back up, retreating to the corner of the small studio to change her shoes.

as she was in the midst of carefully pacing up her tap shoes, she heard someone push the door open.

a head of dark curls poked through the small opening, followed by a cheeky grin that warmed her from the inside out. the nirvana t-shirt had holes in it and the jeans were definitely a circulation hazard. it was an unmistakable calum hood.

calum shuffled into the studio, looking slightly nervous as he shut the door behind him, before engulfing lola in a bone-crushing hug.

"hi lil lola," he hummed contentedly, finally releasing the small girl from his embrace and allowing her a moment to breathe again.